


Softie

by marvellouslynerdy



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-25 21:24:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19754080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvellouslynerdy/pseuds/marvellouslynerdy
Summary: Being a roadie for Queen can be chaotic. Especially regarding a certain blonde drummer.Cross-posted from tumblr (@theredspecials)





	Softie

Sometimes travelling with a rock band had its perks. The partying was great, seeing the world while getting paid was also great. Hands down though, the best part was the friends you made along the way.

Freddie Mercury was vibrant, compassionate and very loud. He had the best fashion sense in the band and the pair of you would often raid thrift stores together.

Brian May was the quiet, reserved and clever one. You knew he’d studied astrophysics and could come up with guitar riffs out of nowhere.

John Deacon was soft-spoken and gentle, but had a wicked sense of humour. He was almost always smiling and full of joy, and the pair of you got along like a house on fire.

Roger Taylor was loud, driven, and occasionally very angry. The prettiest member of Queen was the one you got to spend the most time with. Every show his kit had to be set up perfectly, and that was your job. 

He liked his kit set up the same way every time, if something was a few inches too far from its usual spot, he would notice, and often would struggle to play properly. Hence why you always ditched the pre-show drinks with the rest of the band and the road crew and would be setting up Roger’s kit. Which is what you’re doing right now. The venue is starting to fill up and you’re lying on your back beneath the kit, tightening the legs of the bass drum.

“Time!” shouted the stage manager and you scurried off stage. Freddie gave you a grin as he bounced onto the stage, Brian patted your shoulder, John awkwardly nodded and Roger rushed past you without a care in the world.

All was going well, Roger was drumming his heart out, Brian was methodically powering his way through the solos, Freddie was flouncing all over the stage and John was dancing and bopping along. Then it happened.

Roger was banging the drums perfectly during Keep Yourself Alive. Then with a spectacular crash of the cymbal, his drum stool gave way and the blonde fell. And all you could do was watch in horror.

Thankfully, the rest of the band noticed, Brian and John both hurried over to Roger and helped him up.

“Let’s play a game!” Freddie said, in an attempt to distract the crowd. “Hey hey hey!” he sang, and the audience echoed it back.

“I’ll grab the acoustic and we’ll do Love of My Life.” Brian said, placing his guitar on a stand, while John led Roger to a chair side stage.

“I’m fine, Deaks! The bloody stool just gave way!” Roger grumbled, pushing the bassist away, who shrugged and went to get a drink until he was required on stage again.

You felt your body gravitating towards Roger. One of the stagehands, upon seeing your shocked face had ducked out and replaced the drum stool for you.

“Rog?” 

The drummer glanced up at you, and his features hardened. “What did you do to my drum stool?” he snapped.

“Nothing! The centre support snapped. Just from being used too often. I’m sorry! I’m so sorry” you choked out, trying to blink back tears. You’d never been the cause of Roger’s anger before.

The blonde’s face softened. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I know it’s not your fault. I’m just frustrated.” he said, shakily standing up.

“Roger, you need to rest before you go out and play again.” you mumbled.

“I’m fine. Just a little sore but I’m okay. I can easily go back out there. You okay?” he asked, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah.” you sniffled, and Roger pulled you into a hug. 

“You act tough but I know that it’s just a front. You’re a softie.” you murmured, causing him to let out a gentle laugh.

“Only to people I like.” he chucked. “Now, how about after this show I buy you a drink? Least I can do for breaking that stool.”

You smiled. “You have a deal. Now get out there and be the rock god you think you are.” 

Roger rolled his eyes, picking up his sticks from the floor. “Y/N, I know I’m a rock god.” he said, making his way onstage to thunderous applause.

Little did you know that in a few mere hours you’d be curled up next to the blonde drummer, the pair of you exhausted and fast asleep.


End file.
